


Enough

by Naguodog



Category: Saiyuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Sleep Sex, Surprise Blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naguodog/pseuds/Naguodog
Summary: Hazel know this is a matter of convenience. But Sanzo trusts him this much. That should be enough.
Relationships: Genjo Sanzo/Hazel Grouse
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> A friend gave me the idea and I was possessed until it existed. I’m not sorry.

When Sanzo chooses to sleep by him, Hazel takes it as an honor.

He knows deep down that it’s a matter of convenience, over everything else. Like the bedroll they purchased that Sanzo insisted was a nuisance and a waste of space, Hazel is an annoyance until it’s convenient for Sanzo. He uses the bedroll still, and he tolerates Hazel. Sanzo is an opportunist when he needs to be.

Hazel won’t complain, even if that’s his ultimate role in Sanzo’s life. That’s the way of things, sometimes. But he can’t help but fancy that perhaps there’s just a little more to it. That Sanzo sees something in him as much as Hazel sees something in _Sanzo_. There’s an understanding of sorts, when they get past all the disagreements.

It’s not often that Sanzo falls asleep before Hazel, and it’s even rarer for the blond to _stay_ asleep when Hazel stares. He’s aware of every eye on him at all times, and Sanzo might still be aware of him even now. It’s been a long week though, and a good night's sleep has been hard to come by. Sanzo’s body is speaking for him, forcing him to get some much-needed rest.

With his eyes closed, Sanzo’s features ease, invisible creases between his eyes smoothing out as muscles relax. He looks peaceful like this, as if he’s finally let his guard down. Like he _trusts_ Hazel.

Hazel isn’t stupid. He hasn’t gotten this far without knowing how to read people. He knows the trust between them is nowhere near what Sanzo has with his companions, despite how foolish Hazel thinks it is. For better or worse, Sanzo trusts them with his life. With his _everything_. Hazel, not so much. But this is still something. He trusts Hazel enough that he's left himself defenseless, and that is more than enough.

On a whim, Hazel finds himself reaching out, brushing a stray strand of blond out of Sanzo’s face. His hair is thicker than it looks, fine strands deceiving the eye. Sanzo mumbles in his sleep, and Hazel fears for one single moment that he’s been discovered, that he’ll be banished away for the night, but Sanzo only shifts, letting out a soft sigh. Hazel barely holds back his own sigh of relief, distinctly feeling that he’s dodged death.

Realizing Sanzo is truly and deeply asleep, Hazel can’t help but trail his fingers lower, running over the delicate lines of Sanzo’s face. First the brow, then the nose, he rubs his thumb over Sanzo’s cheek. Sanzo only stirs enough to roll on his back, but every now and then he’ll let out a soft sigh or a quiet grunt. 

Hazel reaches the lips and pauses for a moment, trailing two fingers against the skin like a kiss. Sanzo twitches then, a soft sound following. Entranced, Hazel leans forward until his breath is mixing with Sanzo’s. He knows he’s testing his limits, knowing exactly Sanzo’s reaction should he wake right now. But Sanzo doesn’t, and Hazel finally closes the distance, taking what he knows he’s never going to get. 

He has enough sense to make it quick and chaste, only brushing his lips against Sanzo’s with the barest hint of pressure. He shouldn’t risk more - at least, he thinks until Sanzo shifts and lets out a groan. He wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been so close to Sanzo’s face, but the noise is unmistakable.

Pulling back, Hazel can’t help but marvel at the sound. Thinking only of getting more, of hearing it again, he brings his hand down from Sanzo’s face, running it along his chest. Sanzo’s forgone the robe for sleeping - he doesn’t like how it twists overnight - leaving him in the skin tight shirt and jeans.

It seems the fabric isn’t too much of a hindrance, as Sanzo shivers and sighs beneath his touch. Hazel wonders who Sanzo dreams of as he shifts, if he’s picturing Hazel or someone else as blood seems to rush to his face. Hazel can imagine it’s him with Sanzo’s eyes closed like this, though he knows anything is possible.

He plays with Sanzo for a time, moving for spots that seem to be particularly sensitive. He’s long since chosen to ignore the reality of what he’s doing. Any semblance of self preservation went out the door long ago, and Hazel isn’t entirely convinced he’s not the one dreaming. Sanzo is responsive, more so than Hazel ever would have expected. Whether or not it’s because he’s asleep doesn’t matter.

Focusing on every little noise Sanzo makes, it takes Hazel a while to realize the growing bulge beneath his jeans, only noticing when Sanzo thrusts forward in his sleep with another moan. He’s only half-hard, but it’s more than enough for Hazel.

He’s used to the motion of undoing Sanzo’s pants, and Sanzo doesn’t seem to notice him sliding a hand down to grasp him. Hazel moves with slow strokes, the last remaining thought that he should be damn well sure Sanzo doesn’t wake now. He knows he’s taking this too far, going down a path of no return, but he can’t seem to find it in him to stop now.

It is surprisingly easy to get Sanzo fully hard, though he suspects that night be has very much to do with his unconscious state. He’s vulnerable like this, open, and it’s a drug on its own. Hazel can’t turn back now, but he can do his best to hide the evidence.

Shifting carefully so as to not wake Sanzo, he positions himself between Sanzo’s legs. Pulling the jeans down just enough to keep them from scratching him, Hazel leans in, taking Sanzo into his mouth. He moves slowly, pausing when he feels Sanzo shift. Freezing, Hazel watches as the blond’s eyelids flutter for a moment, serene expression twisting. After a minute, he finally stills, settling back in. Hazel waits another minute to be sure before resuming his downward motion. 

He isn’t going to deep throat Sanzo now, not while he’s asleep, but he still puts in effort in earnest. Dream or not, he _will_ have Sanzo enjoy it. He owes him that much, twisted as it is. He knows he’s doing well with each little noise that escapes, and before long he gets lost in the rhythm of it all, enjoying every bit of Sanzo he can.

He doesn’t notice the noises have stopped until the muscles beneath him shift. Sanzo pulls, and then moves, pushing himself partially upright. 

“The fuck.”

Immediately, Hazel stops, turning his head up only to lock gazes with decidedly awake violet eyes. Though his voice is graveled with sleep, Sanzo’s gaze focused and clear, staring directly into Hazel. Understanding dawns in Sanzo’s expression the same moment realization hits Hazel. Panic overtakes him, and Hazel moves to pull back, scrambling to find an excuse.

“Sanzo-han, I—“

Hazel’s words cut off with the hand in his hair, Sanzo’s legs hooking around to lock him in place. He’s not pleased, but the look on his face is far from hatred. Hazel barely dares to breath, half expecting to find Sanzo's favored pistol cocked at his temple the second he blinks.

“Finish it.” The words come as a command, and Hazel suddenly finds he can’t quite recall his own voice. Nodding silently, he leans down again, meeting Sanzo’s gaze only once before he takes him in again. He goes all out this time, as if his very life depended on giving Sanzo the best blowjob of his life. (He suspects it does.)

Though he is moving faster now, sucking harder and taking Sanzo all the way to the back, he finds that the blond is far less vocal when awake, throwing him only the barest of bones here and there. All the action is in his breath, and a slight hitch is all the warning Hazel gets before Sanzo reaches his peak. Unlike all of Hazel’s fantasies, there is no dramatic cry when Sanzo comes, no dramatic release of passion and ecstasy. A small thrust and a grunt is all he gets, as quick and utilitarian as Sanzo himself. Hazel still swallows, though he doesn’t have much choice with Sanzo holding him fast in place.

When he’s finished, Sanzo releases his hold, pulling back and rolling over without a word. It’s not exactly the bedside manners Hazel would prefer, but he supposes it’s better than he should expect given the circumstance. He’s alive, and that alone is a miracle.

Sanzo doesn’t address him for a long time, and Hazel almost thinks he’s fallen back asleep until he hears a quiet voice. “This means nothing. Next time ask.”

He won’t expect this again, he’s not that stupid. But this is enough.

  
  
  



End file.
